Mute not Speechless
by Anxiety-Issues21
Summary: A new servant is accepted into the Kuchiki household. Though she cannot speak, Byakuya will find she can express far more than other people...
1. Chapter 1

_First of all - thank you for clicking on this story! And... __Ooooh dear._

_Where do I begin? Literally a minute ago I was on my back, thinking about that black-haired princess, when suddenly... this happened. _

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><p>"You are to address him as Kuchiki-sama."<p>

The elderly woman's wrinkled, but strong hands worked their way through my new, clean, beautiful oh so beautiful clothes. She tied tiny strings so soft and silky they resembled spider's web. Spider's web...

Never in my life had I seen clothes as beautiful as these. Silly - they were only servant's robes, Kami - but the feeling of happiness clutched my throat so tight that even if I could speak, I probably wouldn't.

Remembering the elderly woman's words, I nodded, even though, obviously, there was no way I'd ever _address_ him.

"You are to address his wife as Hisana-sama."

Beauitful, gentle Hisana-sama. From what I'd heard - and I hadn't heard much - she was a kind, candid sort of person. Maybe, I thought, I resembled her a bit. I wasn't anything special, of course, I don't want to brag, but perhaps... perhaps I could become more like her. Gosh, I was still so impossibly happy I'd been employed! So glad! These beautiful clothes, and these kind noblemen, and...!

And Kuchiki Byakuya.

"You are to never interrupt their personal conversations, unless you carry a message from someone of Kuchiki-sama's rank. Understood?"

The kind elderly woman had very small, blue eyes that pierced me with intelligence and coldness. Although dressed in the robes of a servant, like me, she still seemed more fit to fight as a Shinigami than take care of the Kuchiki mansion. I wouldn't have put it past her that she was a thief or knifer in the Rukongai.

Oookay. Enough of that. She was looking at me expectantly, which meant she wanted me to say something.

"Well? Are you deaf, girl? What's your name?"

It was time to admit I was a mute. Or... you know, not.

With my left hand, the one I found dominant and the one free of the standard Kuchiki household glove, I reached to show her the wooden pendant on my neck. It was the only word I knew how to write, and that's just because some dead fisherman showed me, years ago. He was a distanced man, he appreciated the fact I never asked questions. As a parting gift, and also pay, he gave me this necklace - and a name. Mizuka. The scent of water. An aroma I couldn't remember, but he always described as 'more beautiful than a woman's', so.

"Na... hm, I can barely... oh, _Mizuka_. Well, Mizuka-chan, my name is Hana.", as she spoke, her voice got softer and her eyes changed into the kind pupils of a granny. She was a hard-working, trustworthy woman. Or I was just really naive. Either way, I was going to find out sooner or later. "If you need help, you can come to me - but in reasonable hours, you understand."

I nodded eagerly, ready to start. Behind my most obvious motive - I truly needed to be employed, Kami - stood boldly my deep love and respect for the great families. Seeing... just _seeing _more of the mansion... the mere thought of it made my heart beat faster. I _would _try to keep some pride, but it was going to be a struggle.

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><p>Time went by and my hopes slowly rotated back to where they'd come from. Kuchiki-sama and Hisana-sama where nowhere to be seen. I started feeling depressed and bitter, much like before that messenger found me and gave me a notice. The news of being <em>offered <em>a place pulled me right out of an ocean of darkness - only to make me jump head-first right back into it. Damn.

You'd be amazed if you saw what the mansion was like, though. Just a brief walk through those beautiful corridors made at least half of my sorrow go away. As my hands dipped the cloth in the bowl and scrubbed the floor where Kiri had spilt warm milk, my eyes wandered over the walls, desperately trying not to blink. To be honest, my deep admiration was a laughable topic for the others - the other servants, that is - and I couldn't blame them, but I also couldn't stop. What a little fool... what a little fool I was, stunned at the glory surrounding me.

But what else can a girl who grew up in the slums of Rukongai do?

"That's seriously enough, Mizuka-chan", said Kiri's voice, waking me from my daydream. I hadn't realised my hands were still scrubbing - dear, they'd gotten red. I frowned a little. "You... yeah, whatever, it will do."

Her slightly patronizing look wasn't embarassing for me. She found me endearing, well, I was barely fifteen on the surface - I died well past the age of thirty, though, this childish attitude was just a part of my character - but there was no way to tell her this. I coudln't write, only sign, and that language was so rarely known that I didn't even bother trying it anymore.

I raised the bowl and put the cloth in it, then passed the whole thing to Kiri. She helped me up. Her hands were sturdy and rough, she'd worked for the Kuchiki family far longer than me, decades perhaps. I remembered her first words to me, rude, brutal - _'get your shit together, girl, this is no place for weaklings'. _I knew that very well. And I was no weakling.

_"Are you going to say something? Or are you gonna just sit here and look at me with your doe eyes? Get to work, you hear me?"_

She looked so dangerous back then. The kind of woman who was born aged fifty. Though her face made me believe she was barely in her twenties, I knew she her real age had more digits.

I once heard her yelling at a servant boy. She yelled at me too, sometimes.

Kiri was very beautiful. Maybe not her nose, or her strong jawline, but her eyes were always warm. Some people's eyes are simply _warm_. She laughed roughly, noticing I wouldn't let go of her hand even after she'd pulled me to my feet.

"What are you doing that for? Don't act so overly grateful, it's gross.", she said. "Listen, you're needed in the kitchen."

Nod. Before she knew it, I was off.

I had spent many years in the Rukongai, working as a nurse, a helper, a servant. Though you may think having no voice made my life harder, with time I realised it was the opposite - people were _more _willing to accept me as a worker, simply because I came with a secrecy guarantee. A quiet, invisible girl sneaking about, capable of answering in only two ways - yes, no - and silently, too. Not to act immodest, but then again, being mute wasn't a trait I _could _be proud of. I hadn't ripped my tongue out for it or anything. I just... I just _was _like this.

(Also, oh the _satisfaction _of knowing secrets. Dirty little secrets that slipped right into my head and never left, and what was even better, I wasn't bound by a single promise. Emplyers found it obvious that I wouldn't tell. Perhaps they should have thought twice.)

Purity is not one of those things I have. Doe eyes or not, my personality is... pretty rotten, and the only innocence left is my admiration. Other than that, you'll find I make a good actress and display way too much pride at times. Stuck-up, for a mere servant.

"Mizuka-chan", Hana noticed my entry from her wooden chair under one of the kitchen walls. "You look terrible. Change clothes immediately."

Nod. A few moments later I was in a dusty pink kimono, the one I dirtied waiting for me to come back and clean it later on. Returning to see Hana, I noticed from the corridor that her chair was already empty - dear, I must have angered her somehow. Maybe I took too long...?

"Calm down, you're panicking", there she was, back again, a tray in her hands. "I can see everything in your eyes, how do you do that? Kami.", she let out a deep sigh, reminding me of her old age, "Now carry this up to Hisana-sama's quarters. She's in bed, very sick, don't disturb her."

_I definitely won't_. My steps didn't echo on the stairs.

Neither Hisana-sama _or _Kuchiki-sama were purposely hiding from me. That much was clear, come on. The very idea was ridiculous. It just so happened that I... well, I wasn't lucky enough to see them. However, now that I was headed to her room - Hisana-sama's room - I couldn't help but feel mildly curious.

Mildly. Who am I kidding.

From what Kiri told me in a scolding tone when we washed the dishes, I knew Hisana-sama suffered from some very bad sickness. I had met ill souls before - the Rukongai was filled with them - but for me, a noble... how could someone as pure and perfect as a noble be ill? I was naive, so naive for a proud piece of shit.

Hisana slept in a bed originally meant for guests. The one she'd once shared with Kuchiki-sama was now his alone; I hadn't been there yet, but on the other hand, I hadn't had much time to investigate. That didn't mean I wasn't going to. As you might have guessed, rules weren't something I worked by, but I made sure nobody noticed me when I broke them. I was planning on taking a walk and listening in on Hisana-sama and Kuchiki-sama some time. Curiosity. Simple as that. With a sigh, I pressed on the doorhandle with my elbow and entered Hisana-sama's bedroom, carefully, soundlessly.

"Who is that?", came an absent voice.

Oh, how much did I want to answer that. I had quite a beautiful name. Instead, I placed the tray on her bedside table, then bowed low and showed her my pendant.

Hisana was indeed wonderful, with huge, violet eyes and silky hair. How sickness could fall on someone this incredible, unique- it was absurd to me. Absurd. I felt a tiny, tiny bit of sadness. She lay alone amongst white sheets, so white they made her face seem even paler. This was one of the 'worse' days. 'Worse' because Hisana-sama _felt _'worse' and 'worse' because Kuchiki-sama... well, Kuchiki-sama didn't speak a word to anyone, from what Kiri spat out.

"Are you... are you _crying_, Mizuka-chan?", Hisana smiled faintly, but her eyes soon lost focus and drifted away from me. It felt like she was talking from behind some kind of barrier. It wasn't pride; I knew pride, believe me. Hisana-sama was... ignorant of her surroundings. As if she did not see them. My eyes followed her dark hair, slowly closing eyelids - she was a poor soul. Possibly younger than me. How could anyone younger than me suffer like this? It was not fair.

I shook my head furiously. This poor, poor woman.

Seeing she'd lost interest in me, or perhaps (probably, of course probably) she was simply too tired to pay attention to me, I exited the room as swiftly as I entered. Still I couldn't shake the feeling there was something odd about her. Something out of place.

Maybe it'd been the fact she was in the guest room. Probably that, because... she felt like nothing more than a visitor. She felt... like an _acquaintance _of Kuchiki-sama's, but that was of course impossible... she was his wife. He'd married her and he loved her. And she loved...

My brow furrowed, but before I could actually admit to myself something was wrong with that sentence, my mind had already pushed it away as nonsense.

Nonsense. Nothing more.

"Mizuka-chan, have you met Hisana-sama yet?", asked Kiri one time, walking past me. We shared a room in the household's small wing - nothing other than two beds, a desk and a window, but still more than I'd ever had.

Nod.

"And?", she gave me an expectant glance.

My lips pulled into a kind, but slightly patronizing smile. Kiri rolled her eyes.

"Why do I ask, you like everyone. But... you know, Narumi-chan...", she looked away suddenly, surprising me. "I'm... there's this rumour going round."

My brows furrowed.

"Rumour that, well... Hisana-sama... oh, what am I doing.", she suddenly shook her head. "Forget it. I'm babblin' nonsense."

Nonsense. Yes, I knew what she meant.

* * *

><p>There was no big 'introduction'. The first time I met Kuchiki-sama was simple and momentary and to be honest left me kind of appalled. He'd passed me in a corridor, headed for Hisana-sama's quarters with his lips pursed in worry and his fists clenched. He didn't even notice me, quite apparent a fact. Like I was air. <em>Excuse you, <em>I thought after him, raising my eyebrows. He couldn't hear me, after all.

Much to my joy, I passed him a few times more in the next week. And the next. Though I had felt the royal aura of Hisana-sama, it was nothing compared to the _wavelength _Byakuya... yes, I'd started calling him that in my thoughts, nobody would find out anyway... gave off. His very presence made people pull their feet together and stand up straight. Not something that happened to me, but I noticed it in Kiri.

His face, so _trained, _in his desperation to make it into a mask. His chin, raised lightly. His grey eyes... shimmering with worry.

To my own bitter surprise, I realised soon that Kuchiki-sama... Byakuya... was taking Hisana's illness a lot worse than she was.

I began observing. Slowly.

I carried tea around, I washed the dishes, I smiled so much my face hurt, behind that hiding my mixed irritation and curiosity. There were more people working at the mansion than you'd think - after all, no one ever _saw _them, except for other servants - and they weren't half as stuck-up as your Mizuka-sama, which was surprising. Weren't they meant to be... like, royal servants? Huh, my mistake. The likeable thing about them, though, was the politeness (minus Kiri). The reason Kiri was the way she was, as I'd found out, was that Hana had adopted her and given her most of the house responsibilities. One of those was me. Kiri could order me about freely, in consequence. Ugh.

"Check if Hisana-sama needs something."

Three minutes later I was back with a shake of my head to offer.

"Check if Hisana-sama is feeling worse."

Moments after I returned, I told Kiri a meal was needed, waited for the meal, and took it up to Hisana-sama's room. The stairs seemed longer every time, and my clothes were getting hot.

"Mizuka-chan, Kuchiki-sama will come see you later today. Remember to wash up."

Keeping her words in mind, like I always did, I went about my orders. You have to work for your pay, and complaining didn't go through my head; although I usually provided a mean commentary for myself when faced with something that didn't please me. If I don't talk to myself, who will, I mused, putting a wet piece of cloth into a glass and turning it around a few times.

With my mentality, survival was almost easy. Looking back on Rukongai, it struck me that I'd had it good. Of course, I didn't sleep in a bed of silk sheets, but then again I was almost always offered a bed. If I took long-term work at an inn or a place of that sort, I would also have a free meal. Food was nice. It's impossible for a soul to starve, of course, and I had no real spiritual power to speak of, but that didn't change the fact I liked eating.

Maybe that was why I was the proud beggar back in the day. I was given more than others. I could freely look down on people, because... because I was almost safe.

It probably wasn't right. I shook my head. One thing I knew - I made an excellent servant. I certainly would spill milk like Kiri.

"Pardon."

Oh dear, was it time already? No good, I wasn't done. I raised a finger, gesturing Kuchiki Byakuya to hang in there for a moment.

Out of the corner of my eye I saw that he was startled. Irritation mixed with agitation. He looked restless; after about a minute, I heard him sit down with a rustle of clothing. Patient, was he? Interesting.

Well, I perfectly _knew _I shouldn't be keeping him waiting, but I had a job to do. I didn't like leaving things unfinished.

"Mizuka-san?"

His voice sounded young. I didn't know what I had expected - Kami knows, I'd seen his face enough times to guess - but it came a surprise. Momentary. I focused on the fork.

"Are you hard of hearing, girl?"

Dear, only ten minutes in, and he was already so upset. Before I lost my job, I put the fork away and finally turned to face him. He was sitting with his knees together, back rested on the wall, but the posture seemed stiff. He was dressed in a beautiful haori, and in his long, black hair I immediately noticed kenseikan. This meant he'd only come home.

Remembering his question, I shook my head and put on a polite, distanced smile. Then I sunk into a low bow.

This, Byakuya apparently decided to answer. He too got to his feet (shame flashed across his face and I realised he was feeling _guilty _for sitting down) and lowered his head in a greeting. I peeked at him as he did so, and immediately got interested in the odd way his hair was combed in the back.

Ooops, too much staring. He was upright again.

"I was earlier informed of your...", he skipped a beat, "disability, Mizuka."

Hmph, so no -san for me? Very well. No honorofic was better than -chan. It was cuteish and pleasant, but not particularly enjoyable, and besides - made me feel below those who spoke to me. I did _not _like feeling that way.

As a reply to his words, I placed a hand over my throat and my lips quirked in amusement.

His brows drew closer together until a small wrinkle formed between them. He didn't understand me and it bothered him. Dear, I should have acted a little more like Mizuka-chan would. Not Mizuka-sama.

"It was my intention to ask you 'yes' and 'no' questions to make communication easier. Is that fine by you?", he continued hesitantly. Taking a moment to wipe my hands, I nodded.

Byakuya's features relaxed.

"Are you satisfied with working here?"

Nod.

"Do Hana-san and the other servants treat you accordingly?"

Nod. Followed by a soundless laugh that I couldn't help. He was so serious! It may sound like I'm being condescending, and I am a bit, but... I couldn't help it.

Something about Byakuya's eyes made it conveyed the impression he could see through any mask. Freed from my Mizuka-chan manners by those eyes, my hands raised themselves and began speaking a language I hadn't used in decades.

_Accordingly? Yes, they do! Kiri is a bit rough sometimes, but I'm perfectly aware she's a good person. She's only a bitch on the outside, you might say. _

I blinked in shock, realising that I'd let my 'inner commentary' cease to be 'inner'. For a few terrible moments, I thought he'd understood - but the bewilderment on his face quickly proved me wrong. Byakuya didn't have a clue when it came to signing. And thank Kami for that.

"My apologies- I", he blinked as well, composing himself, "I'm afraid I have no knowledge of this language. I deeply apologize..."

The way- the way he was completely lost was prescious_. _I quickly shook my head and hands, a sorry look on my face - or so I hoped, because it was fairly imaginable that my expression gave away how taken I was.

"Is... writing perhaps among your abilites?", he questioned with a flicker or curiosity.

My turn to look repentant. Byakuya nodded with understanding, like Kiri before him, quickly getting the hang of my facial expressions.

He said a few more things that day and went to Hisana's quarters, making me think.

And once more, I pushed those thoughts away as simple nonsense.

* * *

><p>Worn out and with my eyelids so sticky I had to hold them open, I walked... crawled... something between those two means of transportation... into my bed. Kiri was already sound asleep in hers, with her back to me. Though a large part of me was glad to see her resting, I was no saint - a small, tiny prick of jealousy hit my gut.<p>

Tiny. Yeah.

It didn't last more than two minutes. I moved forward, and suddenly felt the edge of a plate under my hand. Kiri had left me mocchi from today's dessert. I thought they'd all been taken for Byakuya and Hisana, but...

My heart shrunk. Or maybe grew? Anyway, it hurt. I almost burst into tears. Almost.

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><p><em>AN: Yeah... young Byakuya is... whooooa. Heart eyes. If you read up to here, you are a veteran. Now please, if you want this mess to continue, leave me a review! Once again, thank you for reading. It means the world. <em>

_If you like something, or don't like something, let me know. You'll just make this story better by doing so! _

_(Of course, all rights to Kubo. Fanfiction is written purely for fun, not money.)_


	2. Chapter 2

_AN: Ha, chapter one was crappy. Like author, like story...?_

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><p>It was now fairly understandable to me, what the 'nonsense' I couldn't get out of my thoughts was. The way Byakuya moved. The way he walked. Hisana took a step sideways; his body shifted to match her, like some sort of guard dog. Though comparing him to that is an insult - and Kuchiki-sama had a lot more grace to him than a dog, I must add - it's a fitting description, if I do say so myself. He also displayed that cold, detached sort of aura, and I knew what it meant; aristocracy, and of the highest sort. I suppose that's how most servants and all of his co-workers in the Seireitei viewed him, it probably didn't even occur to them that the truth was much different. I observed Byakuya - I saw the uncertainty inside of him, eating through his mask like sickness. Like the sickness that pulled Hisana-sama from this world, bit by bit.<p>

She was fond of me. She was fond of practically everyone, and as you might recall, on my first meeting with her I was rather starstuck. A few months had passed since then and I soon came to the realisation; Hisana was fond of everyone equally.

She didn't favour me over the others, though I got that impression at first. Her kind smiles, doe eyes (hm, almost sounds like I'm describing myself) - all this made me see her as so wonderful and gentle, for me. Yes, she was - however seeing her interact with the others was exactly the same. By others I don't mean just the servants. I also mean Kuchiki Byakuya himself. Her lord and husband - I swear, in the times I listened in on their conversations, as I mentioned I would, I never heard her call her anything but 'Byakuya-sama'. 'Byakuya-sama is so good to me', straight to his face. In my life, my encounters with men were limited, since I focused on my profession more than on anything else, and I usually only worked for them, so I can't say I'm an expert - but there was no intimacy between Hisana-sama and Byakuya. It dawned on me; she didn't love him, never loved him, liked him a lot of course, but never truly felt anything deeper for that man. That poor, poor man.

In my pride I quickly understood how much more I had than him. It only enforced my somewhat arrogant behaviour, being around him itself made it worse. He was irritated, at first. He sent me unwelcoming glares when I poured him tea.

Because in all truth, the man was a poor, adorable, constantly perplexed.

Byakuya drank vanilla tea. Not because he liked it. Through experimenting with his snacks, I learned he disliked all things sweet in taste. He drank it because Hisana drank it; and sometimes, on the days he spent alone in his dimly-lit study, he'd just have the tea stand there on his desk for scent alone.

I pitied him. He saw it in my eyes and he hated it. He hated my condescending attitude, which worsened, as I've said; and in the first month of my work, there'd been a few instances on which I thought he'd tell me to leave. He never did. Why was a little unclear, but, hypocritical as it may seem, I didn't investigate in any way. Not that I had many ways. I just really didn't want to actually be fired, so I didn't push it.

With time, he grew used to me. It took a year for him to finally accept me, as I was - in the duration of that year, twelve months (in case you didn't know), I secretly began learning how to write.

You see, I'm not as mighty as I make it seem. The truth is, what he said to me that day... that question, if I could write, bugged me to no end.

I began subtly. No one knew sign language, so I needed to use the 'other' sign language - the one that usually involves drawing on things and gesturing frantically, rather than using the neat, graceful way of communication which I originally, in my younger years, used.

"What the hell do you mean?", Kiri stared at me with doubt in her round eyes, her face tanner and with more freckles than I remembered. The look she was giving me made me feel like a complete idiot - which I hated, to be frank - but I continued to try, as I knew she was fond of me.

Many people were fond of me.

I tried once again, raising one hand and making scribbling gestures on it with the other. Then, I gestured at her, and forced the question into my eyes.

"You're asking if I can... draw?"

I used the universal gesture for so/so. Kiri let out a sigh, tired after a long day's work, and began to turn around - I stopped her in time, grabbing her by the shoulders. I could feel the muscles under her skin. Compared to her I was a weakling; and I wasn't that skinny or fragile. Kiri was simply that king of girl - sturdy, like the daughter of a farmer. When she dressed in the dusty pink kimono to serve Byakuya and Hisana-sama at dinner, I often had to hold back a silent laugh. She looked out of place at those times, and when she'd return to our shared room, she'd almost rip it off and say something like: 'Kami, I hate this shitty piece of cloth! It'd serve better as napkin or something, damn it!'

Oops, got a little carried away in my storytelling. Kiri was now onto something.

"You mean writing, then? You're asking if I can write?"

A series of cheerful nods.

"Well, I'm sorry, Mizuka-chan... but Hana-san never taught me. She… sorta… knows, though, ask her? Just don't bother me anymore", she collapsed face-first into her mattress, which clearly signalled the conversation was finished. I left her in peace; it was late, and we both needed some rest.

As I lay peacefully, quietly, with my eyes fixed in the dark ceiling somewhere high above, I found an odd peace inside me. Kami, I was glad – I had a chance of learning how to write now. Though I tried denying it at first, my pity for Byakuya was slightly deeper than just that. I _wanted _to surprise him. I wanted him to maybe see… that I actually had nothing against him? Surely, by now he saw some kind of mean half-child in me, even though I'd grown. I didn't want him to dislike me. I simply wanted to show him all of my aspects.

Where was I even going with this? I sighed, rolling onto my side. First of all, this feeling I had for Kuchiki Byakuya-sama was (I told this myself) a mixture of admiration, compassion and maybe… the desperate need to be acknowledged? Where was this even _coming from_?

I pulled the cushion out from under my head. It was getting oddly hot.

I calmed my nerves. I was not some child, even if some thought that, and I was not going to be unprofessional. I took my duties _very _seriously, as Byakuya and the other servants had now found out on multiple occasions. This matter was going to remain inside me, waiting for better times.

"Hisana-sama is calling you", said Hana-san one day, close to a year after I had those thoughts for the first time. "She is in the garden."

In the garden. In the beautiful, beautiful Kuchiki garden. I walked through those beautiful walls of white flowers, pale as death itself, yet so mesmerising. Something in this charm… something reminded me of Byakuya. After all, he'd planned this place himself, so why shouldn't it? This place showed more of that more vulnerable, gentle side only his home saw. He might have been a merciless fighter on the outside, but home always brought out his true colours. It is like that with everyone, I suspect.

I dropped in a bow, greeting her.

"Oh, Mizuka."

She began coughing nastily, and though I had my doubts as to her person, I immediately ripped forward to hold her up. She was a small, delicate little thing. I could see how someone could love this innocence. Her kind eyes; full of mother-like love. Though it wasn't my place – ah, since when did I care – I immediately thought that perhaps Byakuya married her because of this. After all, it was common knowledge he'd never known a mother's hand.

"I'm alright, I'm alright", she said to me, gently moving my hands away. "I just wanted to ask Mizuka something."

I raised my eyebrows questioningly.

"Kiri was tending to me the other evening, and she mentioned something about Mizuka taking writing classes with Hana-san.", she continued. I responded with a brief nod, averting my eyes. Lying should be easy in my situation – how hard is it to fake a nod or a shake of the head? – and it usually was, but how could I look her in the eyes and confirm I'd been doing something solely _for her husband_? _Because _of her husband?

Love aside (for she did not love him; this much I'd figured out and was going to stick by) it didn't feel right. Perhaps, had it been another wife, and another husband, I wouldn't have cared. Hisana-sama, however, was a good, ill woman that life had treated unfairly. How could I not feel guilt, knowing I was beginning to do things… just because of him, cursed Kuchiki Byakuya?

I'd also noticed she'd dropped the –chan. I was pleased. It was plausible she'd understood I was her age, if not slightly older, despite my appearance. Speaking of which, Kiri still called me that… but that was Kiri. How could I ever get upset over that?

"Why did Mizuka decide on this? If Mizuka would like to tell me, of course.", she leaned forward slightly. "Long ago?"

I nodded, gaze fixed in the ground.

"Did Kiri suggest it?"

Shake.

"Then maybe my Byakuya-sama?"

_Her _Byakuya-sama. _Her–_ quickly stopped myself. I wasn't angry. I wasn't supposed to be angry. Maybe I'd been wrong, and she _did _love him, just…

Having completely lost my ground, my thoughts scattered. I forgot to nod – but she'd figured it out herself, already. I saw understanding in her huge, violet eyes.

"I see. Well, from what I know, Hana-san's skills are sadly not on a… remarkably… high level", she desperately tried to sound polite. I didn't see what she was getting at. "So… Mizuka, I could be a teacher. It's the least I could do to repay for all the nice things Mizuka has done for me."

My lips fell open. Proud or not – in that moment, she was an angel. I realised, the negative feelings that had begun growing in my stomach were wrong.

My knees bent under me and I sat on the ground, bowing in the most respectful way possible, with my hands rested on my thighs and my forehead almost touching the grass. Hisana-sama. She saw how much I wanted to write – even if she didn't realise I only wanted it because… - and she was going to help me.

No, this woman would have never married a man she didn't love. She wouldn't have _done _that to anyone.

"It appears the girl has _some _manners to speak of."

Shocked out of my skin my the sudden hearing of Kuchiki-sama's deep voice, I scrambled to my feet and faced him. For a few horrible moments, all I could do was stand there, face expression still frozen in that odd place between thankfulness and disbelief, and then finally I managed to channel it into an eruption of joy. I laughed soundlessly, looking him right in the eyes, pride successfully back.

"She's only glad because I offered to teach her how to write", Hisana spoke softly.

Byakuya's eyes widened ever so slightly, lips parted a millimetre. He looked at me, quite dumfounded if I say so myself, and it would have been an amusing view. Actually, it was. My smile soon became that of a person who inwardly mocks reality, and Byakuya was now unsettled.

I could see, same way others could see into my eyes, that he _remembered _that question he asked me back then. He knew perfectly well it was my reason to pursue this.

Him. It was because of him.

"She's a golden helper, Byakuya-sama.", Hisana said, looking up, into his eyes. "Byakuya-sama surely sees how much."

Now there was a dubious smile pulling at his lips, as he glanced between me and her. He was surely analysing just why I was so arrogant towards him… and so meek when with Hisana-sama.

Maybe it was because I couldn't toy with her like I did with Byakuya. Did I just say 'toy'? Oh, Kami. I pitied him, yes, but he wasn't going to die because of an unrequited love. Hisana-sama's illness was killing her, physically. I could not…

I was a maid once. A maid in a merchant's home. The merchant was a round, happy man who loved moving coins about in his hand. He had a knack for finances, quite obviously, and made a good business – that's why he wanted a maid. He had the money, you see, and every 'good' house needs a maid. He had no woman in the house – the wife had run away long before my arrival there, with some hunter perhaps. That I never found out, or maybe simply couldn't remember. Either way, the merchant had a young son. A beautiful boy; with pretty, yellow locks and green eyes.

Byakuya was still looking at me in his shock. He didn't let it show, of course, but I'd been watching him for so long now. I _knew_. And I also knew he wouldn't understand why I had this weak spot. Why…

The beautiful boy was terribly sick. It was a disease incurable; I knew that, yet in the two years I spent at that merchant's home, I did all in my power to keep him alive. He was such a smart, lively little brat. And not 'lively' in the meaning of a boy that runs around and jumps and does all those things little boys do. He had lively eyes and a huge imagination. He lived through adventures where he fought as a Shinigami; and he told me those stories sometimes, quite oddly. Shouldn't it be the maid to tell the children stories? But how could I? How could I, when…

"Mizuka?"

I blinked, surprised by his sudden call. I stood to attention, realising I'd let myself get lost in thought. Unsightly. Unprofessional.

"You seemed… in a far-away place, just a moment ago", Byakuya spoke, brows knotted on his forehead. Hisana was looking at me as well.

"I wish Mizuka could tell us what she's thinking."

_Soon I will, _I blurted out with my hands, before I could help it. Byakuya glanced at the gestures, as if concentrating for a second, then simply shook his head and turned on his heels. Before he left, however, I heard him quietly say:

"I as well."

* * *

><p>Time passed quickly after that. A year, followed by another one; filled with Kiri's bright eyes, Hisana-sama's peaceful lessons and Byakuya's...<p>

His power, his uncertainty, all the contrasts I saw in him. Head of the Kuchiki clan, and somewhere, deep within him, the shadow of a boy he once must have been. A boy without a mother, with a huge responsibility hanging over him. In that time I didn't yet realise how much Byakuya would come to change; I thought him cold, but there were still moments when he smiled.

He smiled at Hisana, of course. I brought them their vanilla tea and I listened, and I watched; I watched his eyes trace her face, her hands, delicate and white like those flowers from the garden be had made. Had it been a gift to her, maybe? That I couldn't know. There was no way for me to simply walk up to Byakuya and demand a conversation via pieces of paper.

What I hadn't taken into consideration, however, was that he would come to me.

I was just preparing a shopping list and a basket to take to the market, leaning over the kitchen table in a simple white dress, when his quiet footsteps echoed in the hallway. I straightened up and there he was - glancing to the sides like some sort of very prissy, very proud, _cornered animal_. He then (finally) turned to me.

"Do you have a few minutes to talk to me, Mizuka?", he asked in a smooth voice, with words he always had prepared. When he spoke, I ever-so-often go the impression he was reading out of a notebook.

I raised two fingers and smiled over my shoulder, then put a napkin in the basket and moved it about until it sat nicely. There. Aesthetically pleasing.

"It was... my intention to inquire... as to the progression of your education."

Well, that was needlessly complicated, but I'd gotten used to it over _more than two years. _I smiled at him and nodded quite happily, as a bunny would, then grabbed my basket and walked out. Duty called! However, Kuchiki Byakuya-sama followed. In an awkwardly rushed manner, because let me tell you, I do _not _waste time when shopping. He was soon back to my side, looking flustered, but still with the intention of talking to me.

"As I have mentioned on multiple occasions, I am truly curious as to what hides behind that smirk you wear on your face.", he said in a tone that suggested slight discomfort. "For a servant, I find you quite interesting."

_For a servant_. I snorted. Kuchiki Byakuya, that was a graceless faux pas. Had he not noticed how _proud _I am? And this being a rhetorical question. He must have noticed.

"I... apologize. That was not meant to sound that way. How tactless of me."

This was the first and last time I heard Byakuya speak normally. It surprised me right out of my grumpiness, and I was staring at him with o-shaped lips once more, basket over my arm and that being the only reason why I didn't drop it. He blinked, equally surprised, then shook his head. We had now come to the city, and Byakuya was recieving curious glances - I, in turn, wished deeply that I could start humming something.

Oh the satisfaction of seeing him out of his enviroment, so helpless. To someone unaccustomed to the way his facial expressions worked, it would have passed unnoticed - but I could read him. And it was glorious.

"From what Hisana has been telling me, I take you are an exemplary student."

I nodded.

"Quite so that you have mastered many kanji, _and _hiragana?"

I peeked at him, and - a little shyly, I suppose - shook my head. Byakuya turned his head to look at me. It seemed as if he wasn't used to looking at the person he was talking to, which was problematic in my case - he needed his eyes _fixed_ on me at all times if he wanted to understand anything out of what I was meaning. Sure, maybe people would talk if they saw Kuchiki-taichou making his jolly way through the market with a woman at his side, and without taking his eyes off said woman at that, but nobody forced him to come along. Indeed, I spotted even more curious glances in his direction - but now, I needed to buy tomatoes.

"Katakana then, perhaps?", he inquired. Hisana must have explained to him that conversations with me were basically guessing my thoughts. That's why I had so little friends. Also, my personality. Of course, they were all _fond _of me, but it was a fondness unaccompanied by actual feeling. They did not like me. It was just Mizuka, the mute girl.

Nodding at Byakuya, I proceeded to show the keeper of the stand with fresh vegetables what I needed. He gave Byakuya a shocked stare, stood there for a few moments, bowed, and then prepared the groceries that I'd asked for. Meanwhile, Byakuya took a look around. It was Sunday, making the market a busy place, with more than one thief scurrying around in the crowd; I knew for sure not one of those thieves could get to him, but my hand rested on my own pouch. The place was also alive with scents and colours - grains, different, beautifully red spices, cloth on sale. Fresh fruit. Somewhere in the background - bad fish, but well, that was always sort of there. Byakuya took this all in, and though his face showed no emotion, he was interested. I was glad.

I paid and took my basket. We continued further into the crowd.

"This place is... full of life.", he complimented.

Quickly, it struck me that he must see the mansion as something different than the servants. He really didn't have contact with all these wonderful places, like me. His home was filled with death. Lurking in the shadows, waiting to take away the one woman he loved. Once more, I felt pity rising up in my heart and making it squeeze shut.

I touched his shoulder to get his attention (he'd been looking around a bit too much, and I needed to signal something), and he shivered, surprised. Though at first he seemed almost appalled - well, I'd literally just touched a taichou's haori, Kami - he quickly remembered I couldn't do it differently. Sorry, I thought at him, deal with it.

Then, I proceeded to show him, using various gestures, that we should go to the perfume stand.

I was hit by a wave of smells - so beautiful, all at once, they made me swoon. Byakuya wrinkled his nose like the fussy princess he was.

I soundlessly laughed at him, but he (thankfully) didn't notice. At least I thought so. Even if he did, he did not scold me, or even look at me unkindly. With a new kind of patience, he let me sniff all the bottles. This was something for myself, really, and a... well, not a very honourable thing to do. The thing was, Hisana-sama always smelt of vanilla. She smelt so beautifully, like home, like family, and I wanted a scent for myself as well.

It had nothing to do with Byakuya... it didn't.

Pointing to the one I wanted, I reached for my wallet, but - before I knew it - Byakuya had paid for me. With eyes undoubtedly the size of plates, I looked at him, to which he offered a tiny twitch of the corners of his lips.

It was a warm, friendly gesture. I understood, in that moment, I wasn't just an intriguing annoyance to him. I was a companion.

* * *

><p><em>AN: Hopefully this turned out better than the last one... sigh. Please leave me a review and let me know what you liked and what you disliked. You'll only improve the story by doing so! <em>

_thank you dearly for reading, and see you soon. _


	3. Chapter 3

I was walking quickly towards Hana-san's room.

It'd only been a few days since I went shopping (and Byakuya had accompanied me), so I didn't understand why that other girl, named Nika or something of the sort, had asked me to go visit the elderly woman. After all, the only time she ever called me was to give me orders regarding those very shopping escapades – generally, all the other messages were delivered to me through Kiri.

Bowing by the entrance to her quarters, I put on a gentle smile to soothe her in case she was angry with me for something.

The view before me was surprising – Hana-san, the strong, sturdy woman I met those few years ago, was in a bed. Her face was a little paler than usual.

"Mizuka-chan. You've grown again", she said, surprising me even more. She wasn't the type of person – as you might remember – to babble nonsense about personal things.

Either way, I decided a polite nod was sufficient a reply.

"How's Hisana-sama?", she then asked.

I quickly made calming gestures, but allowed the expression of worry to remain on my face. After all, the lady was dying, there was no doubt in that. And she was going to die sooner or later, that was a fact.

Why all these people – including Byakuya – tried forcing themselves into believing it wasn't so, was a mystery to me.

"I supposed so. Well, please take good care of her, Mizuka-chan"

Nod.

"I know it may seem odd for me to be saying things like this, but I haven't been feeling like myself lately, so it's of no matter", she spoke, then coughed quietly, not enough to worry me. "I'll be back on my feet in no time."

Hesitantly, I walked over to her bedside and sat down in the chair that stood there. She asked me to sit.

"Now, remember, the market is going to be closed, so you have to go shopping tomorrow. Buy tomatoes and fresh fish, you can try ordering from some sweets for that little pest that runs around here now and then…"

Oh, so it had indeed been shopping. Alright then...

Her tone calmed me; the strength was back in her voice, and the steely edge had returned as well. Hana-san was one of those people that make you feel secure. Like you have a job to do, a job you _can _do, making you useful, therefore important. I suppose that was her charm. She made everyone feel like they were a part of the household, not just hired servants, like they formed a whole.

It's way over the top to say they were like my family. But over months and months of silently watching them, laughing with them, and being around them – around Hana-san, Kiri, all that lost – I felt at home.

* * *

><p>Marriages falling apart are touchy matters. Kiri had informed me of this; as soon as I showed her that perfume Kuchiki-sama had bought for me, she started shaking her head and backing away.<p>

"Not good, Mizuka-chan. Not at all", she said to me, looking angry and worried. "You can't go doin' this to Kuchiki-sama. Or Hisana-sama. The lady is dying. How evil would it be if ya took away the only person that loved her?"

The thought made me tremble. Hisana-sama might have been wrong to marry him, but still, I… she was a kind person. She really was, I assured myself.

However, as if to put me at ease, Byakuya showed no romantic interest in me. He didn't ogle me, he did none of those things Kiri thought he did – and thank Kami, because I'd been worried that what I felt, how I felt for him would somehow affect him. But he didn't seem to notice. His eyes were on Hisana, and Hisana only, loving her, caring for her. I have never seen someone so cold be this affectionate with just one person in the whole world.

"Mizuka."

I paused, looking down into the tea I was holding out to him. Kami knows I'd been getting awkward around him, as if to push myself even deeper into the shit that was loving Kuchiki Byakuya-sama.

Yes, I loved him. I wasn't completely sure how I loved him yet – platonically, romantically or whatever different ways there are – but definitely, I loved him, the _person _he was. It might sound weird to someone who can actually converse with people and make friends in a way different than just staying with someone, like I had done with Kiri. Perhaps, if I'd had a proper throat, I would have let him get to know me – I like talking, by that I mean signing – but he didn't understand that, and my knowledge of the Japanese alphabets was still, well, limited. Hisana was teaching me, sure, but month passed after month and I was still having issues. It was the kanji that bothered me the most; I couldn't remember them properly. It made me anxious. Because, in truth, I wanted to talk to others somehow.

"Mizuka, are you listening to me?"

I finally glanced up at him, bowing lower to pass the sitting man the cup. It gave off the delicate smell of vanilla, as always.

He relaxed a little, noticing I'd looked into his face.

"You seem unsettled. Is everything… in order?", he asked, with about as much concern on his face as a rock has, but his voice gave him away.

Indeed, I'd become melancholy. Brightening up, I allowed myself a cheeky grin and rolled my eyes at him.

Byakuya blinked and turned his head away.

"Tch. Unmannered as always."

I let out a soundless laugh, looking down at him sitting on the floor. He'd been writing; he always wrote beautifully, and I'd noticed he loved calligraphy even before he started randomly conveying those small, half-serious fragments of conversation with me. He sometimes talked about it. I think it's because he sometimes forgot I was even there; it just spouted out of him, like feelings do at times.

"How have your writing classes been?", he then asked.

I proceeded to smile and form a heart with my hands. He blinked.

"Good, I take. I'm glad to hear it.", he said, to which I laughed again; I'd really cheered up, dear. He caught out his own mistake after a second and opened his mouth to apologise, but I just waved him off. He was way too polite. Kiri played games with me over that disability of mine all the time; when I looked at her with a begging expression when she baked, she just smirked and said things like 'What? Are you saying you'd like some? Well I can't heaaar you…", to mess with me.

Kiri wasn't the nicest of people, but I liked her a lot.

"Please, wait a moment…", he seemed to realise something, and got up. "There was something in your eyes only a moment ago. Did you lie about the classes?"

Damn.

Wow, the man had spotted a lie in a mute girl's eyes.

It only made my guilty look worse, and to boot, I's started playing with my hands.

"Mizuka.", his look intensified, "I _will _ask Hisana."

Ha, now my eyes were alive with what I hoped he wouldn't interpret as mockery. Because it was. Thankfully, he either didn't notice, or didn't care, or maybe agreed with me – he soon corrected himself, anyway.

"But I suppose she would only assure me of your talents, am I wrong?", he spoke so clearly, beautifully, and at the same time there was that odd cold edge to his words. It didn't feel like he meant it to be there, but it got worse every year.

I gave a shrug, forgetting that for the moment. He'd figured it out – Hisana couldn't criticize a soul, even if it meant lying. Again, it was nice of her, but personally I find that personality trait a bit troublesome. You can't trust people who tell you what you want to hear.

"Which are… close to non-existent, yes?"

Opening my mouth and raising my eyebrows to display how appalled I was, I soon agreed with him sorrowfully. Byakuya sighed quietly, I almost missed it, and fixed his eyes somewhere in the distance.

"Then I suppose I have no choice."

I didn't get to find out what that meant, because I couldn't ask, and he was too deep in thought to nudge him or something. I considered getting a stick to prod him with when he zoned out like that, damn. It was particularly annoying for me, since I can't just clear my throat to get his attention. If I try using my throat, nasty sounds come out, and I can't control them at all.

Deciding Byakuya wasn't going to say anything else, I left, with a small wave on my way out. He didn't answer it, but there was a shadow of a smile on his face.

* * *

><p>My next destination was (oh, huzzah) the kitchen. Kiri was there, on her knees and wiping flour off of the tiles. I quickly put on apron and got down to help her.<p>

"Stupid me, you know.", she said, and for the first time I noticed a white streak had appeared in her hair. As much as it scared me (I'd been aging slower than her, I'd noticed that, but not _this _slowly) I immediately tried to forget it. Because you should always run from your fears. Totally. "I got it everywhere."

I gently patted her shoulder and dipped the cloth I'd grabbed in her bucket of water. Then, I gathered some of the flour with it and found it'd come of easier than expected.

"How's Kuchiki-sama? Good?", she asked me, and out of routine looked up to see my reaction, but she didn't stop her work. We'd established this method of conversation long ago.

I gave a nod.

"Did you go see Hisana-sama too? No? Just him? Uh…", she sighed deeply. "Remember what I told you, Mizuka-chan, alright? Please don't fuck this up."

She slowly got up, and reached for the cup of water she'd probably prepared for herself earlier – as her hand moved towards it, she twitched suddenly and knocked the cup off the table. It fell to the floor and shattered, spilling its content and sticking the flour to the ground. I gave a sigh, knowing she'd just doubled our work, not expecting – at all – what came next.

Kiri, the strong, loud-mouthed woman I'd known for years, fell back to her knees and started sobbing.

For a moment, I stood dumfounded.

"Sorry…", she managed between rapid breaths, which only made her cry harder. "I'm sorry, I'll clean it all up in a second…"

I was shocked now; I'd never seen Kiri snap like this. She was so much like Hana-san, too, so-

I patched the elements together, and half-guessed: it'd been exactly that. My hint of worry before had been a good instinct. Something was wrong. I sat down next to her and put my arms around her broad shoulders. She was so big, so muscular, and seeing her weep like a baby felt incredibly unnatural.

"Hana-san's going to die.", she managed finally, breathing more steadily. "First Hisana-sama, now Hana-san…"

My only way of comforting her was to hug her tighter and stroke her short, blonde hair. She'd cut it recently, making that white streak I hadn't noticed really visible.

What curse was this? Wherever I went, that gold-haired boy followed me, and sickness took one after another…

"Mizuka… what am I gonna do? Mizuka…", Kiri grabbed my hands.

"Is everything alright?"

I almost jumped, noticing Hisana-sama standing in the doorway. My first instinct was to get to my feet and take her to her room, but Kiri was holding on to me – and I couldn't let her go. Hisana leaned against the frame, coughing lightly into her fist.

"Is Kiri okay?", she asked, looking more worried than ever, and she _usually _looked worried. "Kiri?"

I shook my head, but my friend had pulled herself together and was now getting up. I did so as well, following her example when she bowed.

"Please don't bother yourself, Hisana-sama. You oughtn't be out of bed", Kiri said and sniffed, still in her bow. "Allow me to take you upstairs, I can carry you."

Byakuya, who had been passing by when he saw us all through the open door, froze and almost ran up to her. He immediately put his arm around her shoulders, acting instinctively – but she didn't cling to him as I had thought she would.

"Hisana, you're ill. It was very reckless of you.", he scolded, softly, so politely it didn't fit the words leaving his mouth.

He didn't even look at Kiri, which almost angered me, because- well, it damn well angered me. She was the one deserving attention, because- because Kiri was so strong, and so smart and caring, and Hisana-sama…

I stopped myself. It wasn't Hisana-sama's fault that Kiri was crying. It wasn't her fault Hana-san was ill. Hisana-sama was innocent, and I wasn't supposed to have any grudges against her. Additionally, she'd been teaching me how to write, something I had wanted to badly! She offered it herself, so why, why did I resent her so much in that moment?

I watched Byakuya lift her up gently, holding her with both arms like he was shielding her from the world. Just as I thought he'd leave without even _seeing _the rest of the room – just as I was about to get angry with him too –

He looked at me out of the corner of his eye and I realised he _had _seen us. That he _had _cared. And that later on, he'd come to talk to me.

I focused on Kiri again, and regretting I couldn't get her attention with my voice, touched her shoulder. She grabbed onto my hand and curled in on herself like a dying leaf, hiding her head between her shoulders. It made her look smaller, almost shorter than me. Desperate to get her to understand what I was saying - and I couldn't get her to look me in the eyes - I knelt on the ground, and in the disgusting mixture of flour and water, I wrote the word for 'better'. It wasn't a question, it was a promise.

Kiri was one of those people who can stay brave and vigorous in most situations, but they have one, huge weak spot that can break them instantly. Come to think of it, I was a lot like her myself, only more durable. After all, I'd lived through the death of a loved one before, a child, at that. I also knew Kiri could pull herself together eventually. This whole scenario, however, reminded me of one thing I feared. The day Hisana-sama would die.

What would happen? Maybe it was wrong to think of Byakuya when my closest friend was falling apart right beside me. Maybe it was the fact I'd already established Kiri would live through it. But Byakuya... I didn't really know. I couldn't guess if he'd even stay sane. Even if he cared for me a little bit, that feeling was _nothing _compared to how much he loved Hisana-sama. He loved her more than anything, and it started undermining what I had once established for myself: _Love is only true when it's answered. _Looking at Byakuya made me reconsider it, and made the pain of knowing I couldn't let my own affection show...

No, I wasn't important. Kiri was. I let her go and quickly gestured around the kitchen and to myself, in this way promising her I'd do the rest. She left and directed herself into the corridor where we and the rest of the servants lived.

"Hana-san's gon' die?"

I turned and saw the little boy there; that same little boy Kiri used to yell at. I sighed and patted his head.

"I dun wan' her to die. Are you gon' die?"

A rapid shake of my head. _No. I can't die. _

* * *

><p>Byakuya came to see me late at night, as I was still putting away vegetables and unused rice. The kitchen still smelt of fire after I'd charred the bread, but it was beginning to fade away into the scent of wisteria. Wisteria. I'd finally learned the name of the flower my perfume was made from.<p>

"I've been informed as to Hana-san's condition", he said in a delicate voice. "I'm truly sorry. She's become a friend of mine over the years. I believe I can understand your pain quite well."

I turned to face him and shook my head sadly. Yes, I was feeling sad. Slowly, step by step, the actual idea that Hana-san would be gone began creeping into my head. I imagined a week without her shopping lists which she repeated until I knew them by heart. I imagined making mocchi without the help of her skilful hands. And bit by bit I began to see, I wasn't ready to lose her.

"Is Kiri feeling better, perhaps?", he asked carefully, to which I replied with a small nod. "Good. She looked truly miserable. I recall...", he stopped, then shook his head and seemed to drown in his own thoughts. I walked over to him and reached for his hand. He flinched away at first, but gave it to me after a moment - I held onto his fingers, taking in a deep breath. For some reason, it was soothing. His aura was soothing. The way his eyes were calm and deep like two wells. "Mizuka."

Much to my surprise, he raised his other hand.

_Please stay bold and cheerful as you are. You're the only one left, _he signed, and I stared at his moving fingers like I was seeing them for the first time. And I was - I'd had no idea that he'd... that he'd learn...

"I've been noticing your problems with writing for a while now.", he said simply. "But that's not of import. I kindly ask that you try to comfort Kiri. She needs you."

I stood, still shocked and confused. The information was still fresh and alien in my mind; I hadn't seen anyone sign in so long. Under my depression bloomed some kind of odd, new kind of happiness. I calmed down. Like him.

* * *

><p><em>AN: Here, this is today's chapter. I'm trying to keep them around 3,000 words, so that's the usual deal. Please review and tell me what is wrong and what is right, what you liked and disliked. That's a rap, by the way. Point out mistakes! I know the previous chapters have a lot of them, and that's because I'm half-asleep and practically a zombie. I'll probably correct it all in the end, or maybe not. Who knows. <em>

_Review! _


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